


The light by which my spirit is born

by jaypronouncedgay



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Frottage, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Sex, The Void
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-03-19 01:39:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13694196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaypronouncedgay/pseuds/jaypronouncedgay
Summary: The Outsider always did tease Corvo, perhaps he just never noticed it before.Set a few months after the end of D1(freebie) commission piece done forKirkwall's Angriest Elfon tumblr ; posted with permission.





	1. Muscles better and nerves more

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KirkwallsAngriestElf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KirkwallsAngriestElf/gifts).



> This is set a few months after the final events of the first Dishonored game.  
> Corvo is partially mute in this, which will be addressed laterrrr.

Cold.  
Bitter cold and a biting wind; Corvo has come to expect this of the Void, the freezing chill that never changes, soaks into your bones. It is unmistakable.  
But not here. That cold, the type that makes your heart stutter, it doesn’t belong here. His room, still the same, has the Void in it.

It’s been months. Why now?

Not a moment after he thinks the words - thick black smoke, almost like tar, bubbles up through every crack, every gap between the floorboards, every hole in the plaster. It rises, clinging to the walls.  
And everywhere it touches, it decays, until half of his room is gone, opening out into the endless cold Corvo knows so well.  
But there is nothing more. No voice calling to him, no soul-rattling echo that follows every breath. Not for a while, long enough to fill Corvo with doubts. Is he meant to go find him, is this a game? Or is he expected to stay?

He swears the Outsider is in his head.  
_“My dear Corvo.”_  
He can’t suppress the shudder. Seeing the Outsider, leaning with his back resting against Corvo’s dresser, is an unusual sight. It’s almost human in nature.

“You’ve been boring, of late. These duties do not suit you.”  
He speaks and Corvo feels as though he’s drowning, the words themselves coming up to take him. He’d let them. It’s an old familiarity that wells emotions in him that he would rather ignore. Relief, dread, arousal, fear.  
His voice comes to him easily, always easily in The Void, “it’s just what I was doing before. Am I only interesting to you when I’ve got people to kill?”  
The Outsider smiles, a subtle thing. “And you were not interesting to me before the Empress’s death? How curious you should think so, dear Corvo.”

Fuck.

He swears the Outsider must be in his head, to tease him this way. He swears it to Karnaca and back. He must know how what he says, how it gets to Corvo, driving him crazy. The implications of the words, the smile, the voice that seems to echo throughout the entirety of Corvo’s conscience.  
The Outsider must know how he wants him. How Corvo avoids touching himself with his left hand, letting it hang limp and useless by his side.  
He must know how the Mark thrums when he does.

The mere thought of it all sets Corvo’s nerves on fire, and he finds himself at a loss for words.  
The Outsider moves, with as much grace as Corvo always remembered, crossing the room to stand over where Corvo is still sat on the bed.  
“I had been hoping it wouldn’t come to this, Corvo. You were so promising, so... fresh.” He tilts his head, expression neutral again. “Never before had I experienced anything quite like you.”

There’s no way the Outsider doesn’t notice the shiver that sparks down Corvo’s spine, an involuntary thing, though not entirely unwanted. Months he had to put up with this, before. When he was newly marked - how The Outsider would tease him, although back then Corvo had thought it nothing.  
It drove him mad before, and he knew he couldn’t put up with it again.  
The Outsider’s knuckles brush against Corvo’s cheek, and his throat goes dry. An almost affectionate gesture, if only it had been anyone else.  
But Corvo cannot help but feel... disappointed, ashamed. In himself. He hadn’t wanted to lose the Outsider’s attention, hadn’t wanted to be like Daud. Would that be how the Outsider spoke of him, to his next favourite Marked? With that subtle taste of disdain to every word.

Is this what Daud was to him, all those years ago? Did he tease Daud the same? Maybe Daud was a braver man than Corvo, maybe he did touch himself with his Marked hand, letting the Void seep through.  
Is Corvo just the same?

But the Outsider could tell him nothing but the prettiest of lies, and Corvo would eat it all up, like a man starved.

“So, my dear Corvo,” the Outsider continues, leaning forwards, “I thought to myself, why not give you a chance to redeem yourself?”  
A bolt of dread shoots through Corvo’s system, as the terrifying possibilities of what the Outsider deems ‘redemption’ rear themselves, seizing at his heart.

The Outsider is close, all too close, and Corvo could swear that they breathe the same air, for but a moment.  
The next words are barely above a whisper, but they echo throughout all of the Void, throughout all of Corvo.  
_“This world is yours.”_

And Corvo is alone.

He is alone; his heart racing, his head full of static, and his cock hard.  
The fog in his mind clears all at once, and the words sink in.  
The world is his?  
And... a chance to redeem himself.

What in all the Isles was he supposed to do now?


	2. I like your body, when it is with my body

Corvo paces, scratching at the stubble that was forming on his chin.

The rock that he stood was now stranded; no clear path marking the way, like he was so accustomed.

The world is his, huh? Well, perhaps he didn’t want this world.

He feels the familiar bite of bitterness burn at his throat. He was sick of The Outsider’s games, the teasing. He saw no reason to play into his hand just for an old God’s entertainment.

 

So, he decides, he shan’t.

He focuses his energy, finds that The Void is pressing in on him in a way it never had before.

And for the first time, he lets it in.

 

It was... overwhelming. His nerves on fire, he scoffs, and begins building... something.

With The Void so close now, he finds it easy to shape it to his will. So he builds back up the walls of his bedroom, closing over the roof.

Sitting on his bed in defiance, Corvo finally has room to think.

 

He doesn’t know why he was in The Void, other than for The Outsider’s entertainment. The thought makes him sick, both in repulsion at the idea that he’s nothing more than a toy to The Outsider. That he served only to entertain the old god, and little more.

_Fuck._

 

He swallows, throat dry. It hadn’t been too long ago that he’d touched himself to the thought of the Outsider, on the same bed that was reimagined beneath him now.

How many others had tried to bed the old god? Plenty, Corvo would imagine; both young and old, all yearning for a taste of something more.

 

Corvo _had_ been touched by something more, he carried it around with him, under the wrappings on his hand. He was closer with that _something_ than anybody else could dream to be, but he didn’t have the guts to do anything about it.

 

How he wished he had the guts to do something about it...

 

Moments pass. The flow of time in The Void was impossible to track, and Corvo knew not how long he sat there, stewing.

 

“Come on, you whale _prick!”_

Corvo was angry. Angry at this game, angry at himself for falling for it over and over again. He raises his fist to slam against the wall.

“This is what you do, then? What you wished for?” The Outsider needs no other entrance. “I gave you the opportunity to take anything, everything you might want. It was right there at your fingertips.”

The God raises his hand, fingers bare brushing against Corvo’s chest. “And you chose... home?” His voice is light, hand trailing down Corvo’s coat, flicking across a button. “Not even _really_ home, just an echo of home in a place that can never be such.”  
Corvo can feel the Outsider’s eyes on him, boring into him. The Outsider doesn’t wait for a response he knows he won’t get.

“I would say I expected more of you Corvo, but I’d be lying.” The hand on Corvo’s chest changes course, coming up now to cup Corvo’s chin as the Outsider steps closer, within a few inches. “I offered you anything you could ever dream of, and instead of taking it, you waited for it to take you.”

 

The words strike something deep in Corvo, a nerve he had thought was long buried, a fire within him that he had thought long extinguished. It was like being a boy again, stealing away into Jessamine’s chambers, praying that the guards didn’t find them.

 

He wanted to be taken by the Outsider, taken by the Void. He would be so pliant, so wanting...

The walls burst open into shards, chunks of rock crumbling into the Void as the Outsider takes Corvo, forcing their mouths together almost _too_ harshly.

But the want, oh the _need_ of it. It was glorious, and Corvo comes alive under the attention, back arching as his body yearns for more, more, more.

 

His hands fist in the dense fabric of the Outsider’s coat, dragging him closer, so their bodies press together in ways Corvo cannot begin to comprehend.

He is lifted up by the Outsider’s hands, laid down on the bed. Legs spread open by firm presses to his thighs.

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck._

 

It was... almost too much. Too fast. He can feel the press of each individual finger as they skirt past his crotch, The Outsider climbing over him, settling the weight of his hips over Corvo’s lap, and _holy shit_ is it a sight to behold.

 

A god, breath heavy, legs spread across the breadth of Corvo’s hips.

 

“You are beautiful in your predictability, dear Corvo,” The God says in a purr, smile tugging at his lips.

He doesn’t have a chance to response, not even to furrow his brows, as the Old God leans his head down to take him in with another kiss. Slower this time, drawn out.

Somehow it’s even more arousing than the first.

 

Hands rest on either side of his face, gentle, soft. Corvo inhales softly, opening his mouth and tilting his head, attempting to draw the Outsider nearer.

 

His plan works, and The Outsider opens his mouth willingly. It makes his head swim, the idea of having a God bend to his will, to his own selfish desires. He loses track of his hands, grabbing at the Outsider’s clothes, trying to touch every inch all at once.

 

It becomes increasingly difficult to ignore his arousal, the strain of his cock against the now-taut material of his trousers.

He can’t help but groan as he takes the Outsider’s hips in his hands, feeling out the sharp jut of his bones with his thumbs, their teeth clashing as they both seek out more.

The touch seems to spur something on in The Outsider, and Corvo drops his head back against the pillows, groaning as the Outsider rolls his hips down against Corvo’s crotch. He can feel the Old God’s length, hard against the crease of his thigh as the Outsider mouths at Corvo’s neck. Noises catch at the back of Corvo’s throat, breath hitching as he forces them back down.

 

 _“You should have shaved,”_ The Outsider teases, pressing another open-mouthed kiss to Corvo’s jaw. He runs his nails over the fine stubble Corvo had been growing out.

The motion makes Corvo huff, turning his head into the motion, heat rising in his face.

He was embarrassed by his own vocality, how responsive to the Outsider he turned out to be. How his cock jumped at every touch, every word, every damned inch the Outsider moved.

But the Void had always had that effect on him. The tightness that usually constricted his throat was... loosened. Lessened, to an extent. Every sensation felt doubled, closer and more intimate _._

 

Another roll of the Outsider’s hips, a gentle nip to his jaw. The breaths _hot_ against Corvo’s neck, his face still cupped in the God’s hands.  
_“Corvo...”_ It’s almost a whine, an out-of-breath exhale that accompanies another grind of the Outsider’s cock against his groin.

 

It all proves too much.

His dick throbbing, he chases the Outsider’s hips even if it’s painful, coarse material rubbing against sensitive skin as he seeks out his pleasure. A hand slips up, grabbing at the swell of the Outsider’s arse, pulling their hips closer together. Perhaps a touchon the aggressive side.

 

The _need_ of it overpowers everything else and, finally, _finally,_ Corvo acts. He flips them both, almost too roughly as the Outsider’s back hits the mattress. His hands quick, spreading the Outsider’s legs so he can slot himself between them, grinding down. Hands grabbing at the Outsider’s sides, his hips, his thighs. Every movement feels like heaven, arousal building quickly, his dick leaking already.

 

He needs more, needs it now.

 

Too fast, Corvo’s hands shaking as he works on unbuttoning the Outsider’s overcoat. It’s too fast, too fast, but _not fast enough._ He needs the Outsider naked, on his cock, moaning for him, _only for him._

Corvo can’t _think,_ so he doesn’t try. Dipping his head to mouth at the Outsider’s neck, hips still rocking against the man beneath him who moans, grabs at him in turn.

 

He needs to breathe, stilling his hands and gasping down sharp breaths of nothingness, nothing but Void. Always the same, that bittersweet saltwater taste, just on the tip of his tongue. And then acidic, biting down his throat.

 

He _needs_ to think, can’t and won’t just waste this away on a blind fuck.

 

The Outsider shifts, running a hand through Corvo’s hair, fingers scratching gently against his scalp. It’s pleasant in ways that he cannot begin to describe.

“Do you enjoy it, Corvo?” The God speaks lowly, lowering his other hand to the last button on his own overcoat, flicking it open deftly.

Corvo doesn’t need to think for his hands to come to rest against the Outsider’s bare skin, squeezing down gently. The words alone send another spark of arousal to his groin.  
  
He lifts himself, then, so he can look down at the Outsider, waiting for him to continue.  
His coat lay open, his skin flushed. Corvo’s hands upon him. It was a sight to behold.

 

“Do you enjoy it, stripping the clothes from a God? Having me at your mercy?”

The words send something visceral through Corvo’s system, warmth spreading through his thighs. He ducks his head, kissing slowly at the Outsider’s neck, relishing in the way his breath hitches, back arching under him.

Thumbs brush over his skin, calming. Domestic.

 

“I could simply... will them all away, you know. No fumbling with buttons, no struggling with the cloth. But you wouldn’t _want_ that, would you?”

 

He’s right, of course, he’s _always_ right. Corvo _wants_ to strip him, to take the clothes from his back. It makes him feel... something. He doesn’t know what, but it’s something _right._

 

Corvo doesn’t respond - doesn’t need to, when they both know that the Outsider speaks the truth. Instead of using his words to reply, Corvo dips his head, curving his spine to press kisses down his chest, hands feeling out the surprising softness of his sides.

 

He can feel the laugh rumble through Outsider’s chest, and he can’t help but think how much of this is put on for his benefit. All of it, perhaps? The soft moans, the subtle shifting as he spreads his legs further to not only accommodate Corvo, but to encourage him to do _more,_ to touch and to feel, to take him at last.

Corvo doesn’t care. This was _his,_ all for him.

 

He forgoes the buttons to the Outsider’s pants - instead, curling his fingers under the waistband to yank them harshly down. The material would yield, or the buttons would, he didn’t care which.

They come away from The Outsider with relative ease, and Corvo watches as the God gasps quietly, lifting his hips to allow himself to be divested of his remaining clothes.

What use did a God have of underwear, after all?

 

Finally, there was an appropriate lack of clothing.

And finally, he can take a moment to truly admire the Outsider as he is. Pale (which only makes the flush across his shoulders and face even prettier), with very few scars and little hair, so unlike Corvo. They were almost polar opposites; Corvo tanned and broad, Outsider slender and soft.

Even their cocks are different - Outsider is cut, a practice Corvo was aware of, but had never seen. His dick rests against his inner thigh, already leaking precum onto the soft, downy hairs.

Corvo’s dick is thicker, and ultimately smaller. It hangs between his legs, curving up towards his stomach.

At least there is one thing they have in common: they are both aching for each other.

 

The Outsider shifts, impatient. “I think you are misunderstanding the meaning of the term ‘undress me with your eyes’, dear Corvo.”

Even as dishevelled as he is, breathy with need, the Outsider still manages to be smug.

 

But Corvo has other things on his mind. “How many others have seen you like this?”

The question is unexpected, and an expression that can only be described overwhelming _softness_ takes over the Outsider’s features.

He is honest, for once - completely transparent. “Naked? A few. Laid out before them, in dreams. Always wondering if it were reality or delusion: the Void is funny like that, after all,” he sits up then, something shifting deep within the depths of his eyes.

“But like _this?_ ” a subtle tilt of his head, indicating to everything around them, everything _between_ them. The Outsider reaches out to brush a thumb over Corvo’s jaw. _“Not a one.”_

 

Corvo is bad with words. Doesn’t know how to translate what he feels inside. He’d tried poetry, once upon a time, per Jessamine’s suggestion, but it had ended badly.

 

Bad with words, yes, but not necessarily bad with his mouth.

Corvo shifts his head, pressing a kiss to the Outsider’s palm.

Then, he sinks back, bending his knees and pressing kisses down Outsider’s stomach. His hips protrude, but his stomach is soft, rounded. Corvo loves it.

 

He bends his head, putting his mouth over the tip of the Outsider’s cock, cupping his hand around it to lift it to his lips. Knuckles brushing against his thigh where he can feel the muscles twitching.

The Outsider gasps, a quiet noise, keening as his entire body moves. Back arching, hips tilting up.

Intoxicating.

 

Corvo leads with his tongue, sucking gently as he finds the Outsider’s fingers with his own, entwining them.

Courage was a funny thing. He could take a mans cock in his mouth without blinking, but taking his hand still made him blush.

 

A hand finds itself into Corvo’s hair, The Outsider breathless on the bed above him.

It had been a while, but Corvo remembers quickly. He hollows his cheeks, moving his tongue over the head of the cock in his mouth,

 

The God is more responsive than Corvo could have hoped; small hitches in his breath and minute movements that Corvo would never have noticed if he had not been touching him.

 

His reactions are like air to a drowning man; Corvo drinks them fervorously.

 

He twitches his hips up, trying to encourage his cock further into Corvo’s mouth, to little avail as Corvo moves away. He whines when he tries (and fails) for the third time, thrusting with more fervour.

 

Huh.

 

Corvo pulls off, pressing messy kisses down the length, exercising his own willpower, taking a moment to just _breathe_ against the Outsider’s thigh.

“Can you feel any of this?” He asks, unable to put the thoughts aside for any longer. “Truly, can you feel it, or is this all show?”

Nothing more than an act, to appease Corvo, that is what he feared.

 

Corvo looks up at him, and the God sighs, but his face is soft.

“You really do pick the best times to have a conversation, don’t you Corvo?” The words sound almost amused. Corvo can see the humour in the situation, at least.

 

 _“Yes,_ I can feel you. It is different for me, it is not like how you feel, back in Dunwall, alone in your bed.”  
Corvo doesn’t flush. His days of embarrassment over his bedroom habits are long over.

“But even you, here and now, feel differently to then. It feels the same because you _remember_ it. Your mind fills in the blanks, do you understand?”

 

He doesn’t, not really. But he thinks he understands enough. He is about to speak when the Outsider interrupts him. “Close your eyes, Corvo.”

Corvo obeys, resting his cheek against the Outsider’s thigh, feeling a cold hand press against his face.

“I cannot explain it, not in ways you would understand. Relax, let yourself go, let the Void take you... It is all the same, in the end.”

 

It explains little. The logistics of it, what the Outsider _means_ \- it is all lost on him.

But it serves its purpose as a reassurance, and Corvo can feel the warmth swelling in his chest at the knowledge. He opens his eyes, meeting the Outsider’s endless black.

 

While it could still be lies for Corvo’s benefit, he cannot pretend to outwit a God.

He believes him. For all his lack in transparency, Corvo believes him wholly.

 

He moves forward, straining to press their lips together. He can feel the wet of the Outsider’s cock brush against his stomach, and he can’t help but smile.

How human it was, between them.

 

Corvo sucks on his lower lip, catching it between his teeth and tugging at it. The Outsider moans.

 

By the Gods, Corvo will never have enough of this.

 

He can’t resist returning to the Outsider’s dick, relaxing his straining neck, hollowing his cheeks and gently taking it into his mouth. No more than the first inch.

He fears that if he goes further, he may never want to stop.

 

But the Outsider is wanting, trying to push his hips up, even when Corvo presses his hand down firm over his hip. It appears to make him all the more desperate, pushing harder, testing Corvo’s limits. A hand tightens in his hair, desperately trying to push his mouth down further.

 

Eventually, Corvo concedes to their little power play, his own arousal clouding his brain, making it difficult to simply be _slow._ He wants to take, wants the Outsider to fuck his throat while he palms himself off, until they both can’t take it anymore.

 

He twists his hand, no longer pressing down against his hip, wrapped around it, pushing the Outsider up into his movements.

 

Corvo’s breathing quickens, a few small noises escaping his throat as the Outsider moans, rocking his hips slowly, almost tentatively, up into Corvo’s mouth, hand twisting and pulling at his hair.

 

Corvo presses his other hand against Outsiders thigh, parting them like the God had done to him.

He relishes in how he can feel the Outsider’s muscles moving, even the most subtle of twitches, under the palm of his hand.

He brushes his knuckles over the Outsider’s balls (Corvo had never been confident enough to hold another man’s balls, and he was completely okay with that), running his fingers up deftly to his ass.

 

It had been a very long time since he’d done this.

 

The vast amount of spit, mixed with all the precum, makes for a rather disgusting, but adequate lube. Fuck if Corvo hadn’t fingered himself on less.

 

It’s just enough that he can push the tip of his finger inside. And the noise that the Outsider makes, as he’s spreading his legs and arching his back, gasping needily... it could make a whore blush.

 

It certainly tests Corvo’s patience. He has to stop, not only for the Outsider’s sake, but for his own sanity. Head ducked, swallowing thick against the dryness of his throat. He huffs, catching his breath as he presses soft kisses against the Outsider’s thighs.

The God below him breathes heavily, form loose where he has spread himself across the bed.

 

When Corvo returns to the task at hand, it is with pace and caution. Working his tongue over his cock, pushing his middle finger in steadily.

The Outsider’s groans, the twitching of his hips, it’s enough to drive him crazy. He wants for more, to fuck The Outsider on his fingers alone, see how far he could push before he broke.

But lube was lube for a reason, and spit would only go so far. He casts the image out with a frown, focusing on the hollow of his cheeks, the rhythmic push of his finger.

 

He pushes in only to the first knuckle. Perhaps it was stupidity, but he didn’t want to hurt The Outsider.

The God near squirms, switching sporadically between rocking his cock up into Corvo’s mouth, and grinding his ass down onto Corvo’s finger, chasing his pleasure every which way.

Corvo tries not to smile at the God’s inner conflict, he really does.

 

The grip on his hair tightens, drawing Corvo off his cock and up the bed, where The Outsider exercises his strength, twisting his hips to pin him down.

Corvo lets his hands go lax, letting his finger slip out.

 

When the Outsider divests Corvo of his pants, breath trembling in a harsh contrast to his assured movements, the backs of his fingers brush against Corvo’s abdomen. Cold, always so fucking cold. It makes Corvo’s stomach twitch, drawing in and away from the drastic temperature.

Corvo brings himself up on his elbows, lifting his hips and allowing himself to be stripped.

 

What a sight they made - The Outsider in nothing but a coat, unbuttoned and laying open, showing the flush of his chest. Corvo in a bedshirt, loose around his form.

 

The Outsider wastes no time in lowering himself back down atop Corvo, who lays back against the bed with the motion. His hands find their place at the small of the Outsider’s back, while the God positions himself carefully, in such a way that his cock rests in the crook of Corvo’s thigh.

 

His hands come onto Corvo’s shoulders, holding him as he rocks his hips, face pressed into Corvo’s neck where he kisses, bites.

It had been a long time since Corvo had received a hickey, that was for sure.

 

Corvo lets his hands trail down to the Outsider’s ass again, grabbing a handful and pulling on it. The God groans in response, lifting his hips into his hand. The head of his cock rests barely against Corvo’s thigh at such an angle.

 

Corvo takes his hips, guiding him back down into grinding themselves together. The Outsider’s hips are on the bony side, digging into Corvo’s broader form. It was uncomfortable, yes, but not so much that it could even come closer to overpowering the pleasure that sparked through his body every time the Outsider’s dick rubbed up against his.

 

“I thought about this so much,” The Outsider breathes, kissing the bruise he’d just made. “In the loneliness of the Void, watching you. I wondered what it would be like. I’ve wanted this for years, Corvo. No other man caught my eye quite like yours.”  
The words hit Corvo directly in the heart, and his hips twitch as he loses his pace.

Fuck.

 

The Outsider only seems to be spurred on by his reaction.

“I want you to fuck me, Corvo,” he breathes, palms smoothing over his chest. “Please, you have no idea...”

 

Corvo swallows, tilting his head to kiss the Outsider’s neck, pressing his nose into his skin.

“Next time.”

 

A sharp laugh is his response, as the Outsider sits back, settling his ass over Corvo’s dick. “Such confidence, my dear Corvo, that there will be a next time at all.”

  
Corvo sits up with him, wraps a hand around the Outsider’s cock and smiles. “If there isn’t a next time, you’ll never get to ride my cock.”

 

It was like being drunk. The Void curling its way over his legs, wrapping around his chest. Intoxicating, it loosened his tongue. It always had, but never before had he been subjected to it for so long.

 

The Outsider melts, cocky facade shattered as he rolls his hips up, thrusting his cock into Corvo’s hand.

 

Corvo swears he can feel it now, the Void pushing in on him. He can feel it curling along his thighs, sparks of pleasure shooting straight to his groin. He ponders idly to himself, if it’s anything to do with the writhing God in his lap.

 

The God in question seems mostly focused on his own pleasure, not that Corvo can blame him. Thousands of years trapped in a lonely void, who knows when the Outsider last got any action.

 

But the sight of him, naked except his coat, which lays open to reveal his flushed shoulders, the way his stomach twitches and contracts as Corvo touches him.

The sounds, desperate without a single attempt to quieten himself, not a shred of shame. Quiet whines mingled with harsh breaths as he loses himself.

And the way he moves, hands alternating between holding onto Corvo wherever he could grab (shoulders, stomach, back), and running almost fervorously over Corvo’s body, a thumb rolling over his nipple, long fingers winding into Corvo’s hair for only a few brief moments before the cycle repeats itself.

All of it, wrapped up in as beautiful a package as the Outsider. He didn’t care if his cock never got touched, he could get off on the image alone, that he was certain of.

 

The insistence grows as the Outsider draws closer to his finish, reiterating how badly he wants Corvo inside, all the ways he could take Corvo’s cock.

But still, Corvo refuses. It’s the only thing he can hold onto to convince himself that this might happen again.

 

In what is not at all a subtle plot to persuade Corvo into fucking him, The Outsider wraps long fingers around Corvo’s dick where it rests against the God’s thigh. He ducks his head to spit into his palm, while Corvo exhales sharply at the attention. His dick twitches, and he finds himself spreading his legs unconsciously, thrusting his hips up into the attention as his pace stutters.

It felt so good, so quickly, he could’ve sworn he was about to come. One exact twist would have brought him off, he could feel it.

 

Unable to form words to articulate his pleasure, Corvo translates it into action: he tightens his grip on The Outsider’s cock, leaning forward to kiss over his chest harriedly.

“Corvo, I need more,” the God exhales, teeth worrying at his lower lip, brow pinched.

 

That much, Corvo could provide.

It takes all his willpower to take The Outsider’s face into his hand, kissing him deeply for a moment before pulling back, eyes closed. His hand, stilled.

“Lay down, on your front,” he breathes out, hoarse.

 

It is a physical pain that Corvo feels when The Outsider, for once, excels at taking direction.

It takes them a moment to get repositioned, The Outsider laid lengthways across Corvo’s double bed, Corvo knelt between his legs.

Corvo had scarcely seen a sight so pretty as The Outsider’s naked form laid on _his_ bed.

 

He takes a pillow, lifting the God’s hips and setting it under him. His dick throbs as he guides The Outsider to the position he wanted, a small gap between his dick and the bed.

Even as The Outsider huffs and squirms, trying to grind against the pillow under his hips, Corvo holds him up, disallowing him from chasing his own pleasure.

And fuck did that feel good.

 

Corvo, trying not to let the power go to his head, lowers himself slowly. He almost groans when his dick brushes against The Outsider’s arse, but stomps it down - even when The Outsider arches back, hands fisting in the sheets either side of his head.

 

It takes _a lot_ not to cave and fuck The Outsider like he wanted, especially like this. But he grits his teeth, sliding his dick down and under the Outsider’s balls, pushing his thighs back together.

It had been a very long time since he’d done this. But _fuck_ if it didn’t feel good, even if it did make him feel like a 20 something again.

 

He thrusts slowly, and he can feel the head of his cock brush against the underside of The Outsider’s when he does.

Sensitive, it’s on the brink of painful.

 

The arousal grows again quickly, pain melding with the pleasure as he feels his balls tighten.  
The Outsider can’t seem to decide between grinding back against Corvo’s cock, and grinding his dick against the pillow beneath them.

Every sensation made for pure bliss.

 

Corvo struggles to compartmentalise, to separate his own pleasure from his hands on The Outsider’s hips. It all merges, their harsh breaths mingling, the Void swelling and pushing in on them in tandem with their moans.

He forgets they’re in the Void at all, one hand reaching down between them, between The Outsider and the bed, sliding over his cock. His brain is too clouded for him to get a proper grip, too much precum and sweat for his hand not to slip.

But it matters little; The Outsider moans, jerking his hips forward as he begs, _Corvo, Corvo, please._

 

The sounds are enough to bring him _close,_ so dangerously close that he can almost _feel_ the snap of orgasm encroaching on him.

Then, The Outsider rolls his hips back, wedging his hand between them both, bending almost obscenely to be able to reach down far enough to catch the tip of Corvo’s cock. He presses his palm against the length he can reach, trapping his dick between The Outsider’s cock and his hand.

It was _very_ awkward, and Corvo’s hand had to bend around the arm now blocking his way, but it was so, _so_ very worth it.

 

Corvo groans, biting his lip as he thrusts into the small space The Outsider had made for him, and he can feel his dick pulsing and his orgasm is _right_ there, and oh fuck.

 

With great difficulty, he stops his thrusts, even as his cock jumps in protest. With one arm wrapped around The Outsider’s chest, he pulls him up, leaning him back against his chest. They’re thigh to thigh as Corvo spits into his palm, jerking The Outsider’s cock fast but loose.

 

It brings The Outsider to his end in no time, and he throws his head back with a ragged moan as his hips jolt. There’s no rhythm to his sporadic spasms, and he nearly slips from Corvo’s grip with the forcefulness with which it hit him.

It _hurts_ to have the God jerking his hips over his sensitive dick, but then it doesn’t, and something snaps.

Deliciously, Corvo’s own orgasm finally breaks, and he quickly snaps his hand to the bottom of his own cock, covering it as he thrusts still up against The Outsider’s arse.

 

It’s blinding, and Corvo has never felt anything like it. He loses track of his body, the only tangible things being his dick, The Outsider in his arms, and every single shoot of pleasure that rocks his form.

 

He doesn’t remember where he is, when he finally comes down from the high.

Everything comes back in pieces, albeit rapidly. His dick, painful now where it rests against his thigh, still twitching every now and then. The Outsider, still leant against his chest, breathing heavily as he too comes down from his orgasm. And The Void, ever present, a cool touch lingering on his bare skin.

 

Gently, Corvo lowers them both into the bed. There’s a knot in his chest at the thought that it was over now. He may never see The Outsider again, and this may be nothing more than a distant memory that he tries to not think about.

 

But the knot unwinds, just a bit, when The Outsider shifts, turning to climb atop him. The perfect angle to kiss Corvo’s face, up from his jaw until their lips meet.

He still tastes salty, like sea wash flicking up onto your lips.

 

The Outsider’s eyes flutter open as he pulls back an inch, black pools swirling with endless galaxies. This close, Corvo can almost see something beyond the black depths, something that makes his heart fill with emptiness.

 

The Outsider tells him to visit his shrines. Maybe they’ll meet like this again after all.

 

And Corvo falls asleep, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this sitting on my google drive for AGES before I remembered to post it here, oops
> 
> also i fuckin hate AO3 formatting like god just fuck me up already


End file.
